The Phoenix and the Snake
by S. C. Parker
Summary: This is going to end up as a really neat nonslash, well mostly nonslash, type continuation of the series. we are starting where the 6th book leaves off. I should have the next chapter soon. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

The streetlights let off a dim glow, helping little to see in the night. The mist, so thick it was almost tangible, chilled the air. One woman walked the streets, unafraid. 

Her hair, damp and limp from the moisture, was normally light and shining with streaks of gold and silver. Her blue eyes completed the look of a Viking from ancient times. She shrugged her jacket to sit on her shoulders better and sighed silently. She would have zipped it up, but it was second-hand and the zipper was broken. A small, almost inaudible meow came from the bushes by the houses at her side. She looked and gave a small smile to the black and white cat. "Artemis, you always know where to find me when I run off, don't you?"

The cat, as if it understood her, trotted up to her feet, rubbing her body along the young woman's ankles while purring. "Yes, I know, we yelled again, didn't we? I'm sorry, kitty, I know it distresses you." As she reached down to scratch the cat behind the ears, the air suddenly became icy cold, the intense chill reaching down into her very soul. The cat hissed and ran- it's normal warning of danger. The darkness of the night seemed to swallow up the light making even the streetlights useless and unseen. She turned around, frantically trying to see through the inky blackness. Wind brushed past her left- someone or something was moving very quickly around her. She turned, trying to find it. As if made from the shadows a face, scabbed and mostly hooded, flew out and stopped inches from her own. It sucked in a rattling breath. Iciness flooded her awareness as painful memories overwhelmed her. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she heard a voice cry loudly words she could not understand.

Early morning light filtered by white curtains spilled over the sleeping form of a boy. This boy was unlike any other boy on his street. His black hair, though always untidy, was normal enough. Even his green eyes didn't seem out of place. No, what was so unusual about this boy started with a scar- a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.

Harry Potter was a wizard. In fact, he was one of the most famous wizards in the world. He had survived a curse that no other wizard had, and had faced the same wizard who cast it on him multiple times. He was coming of age today- not something he looked forward to like most teenagers his age would. Today he would set out to do what was his destiny and his right to do. Today he would set out to kill Voldemort once and for all.

But first, he had to meet his friends, for both of them had positively refused to let him go off on his own to complete this dangerous task. _True friends to the end_, he thought. Harry sighed, put on his glasses and went downstairs.

His Aunt Petunia, skinnier than ever and with tired bags under her eyes, didn't even acknowledge him as she fixed a cup of tea. Uncle Vernon, still beefy though a bit redder than normal, hid behind his copy of the London Times. Dudley was no where to be seen. Harry wasn't surprised, though, since Dudley had been taking to staying with his bully friends as much as possible. Since coffee had already been made, Harry decided that would do to start his day. As he sat down with his cup, black of course, he looked out the window and to his surprise noticed a large barn owl perched on the begonia bushes, it's head peaking out over the window ledge. Hoping his uncle wouldn't notice, he motioned for the owl to go to the upstairs window. Unfortunately, the owl didn't seem to understand and gave a loud hoot instead that snapped Vernon's attention rudely away from his reading. He turned around so quickly Harry could hear his neck crick and glared at the owl. Harry hastened to open the window, and while keeping the owl outside, took the letter from it's leg. It gave a hoot that sounded more like an exasperated sigh- it had been there all morning- and flew off.

"Can't you at least keep those filthy owls to your room?" Aunt Petunia had apparently noticed too, and was scowling at the window ledge as if trying to see any spots made by the bird.

Harry ignored her though, and went to read his letter. It was a scroll, with the seal from the Ministry of Magic.

_To Harry Potter:_

_First of all, I want to say congratulations on your seventeenth birthday. I know we haven't been on very good terms, but I hope you will forgive us any trespasses we have suffered you. We would like to extend you an offer to assist the Ministry in a special project to locate and destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This will also count towards your getting a position at the Ministry, perhaps as an Auror. Please respond as soon as you can._

_Sincerely yours,  
Rufus Scrimgeour Minister of Magic_

Letters like this had been coming in since the school had completely emptied out after Dumbledore's funeral. Harry had refused to reply, figuring Scrimgeour already had his answer and knew it. No matter how hard he tried to persuade Harry, Harry wasn't going to side with the Ministry.

"Well, did they kick you out again? Perhaps another trial?" grumbled his uncle through his thick mustache.

"No." Harry gulped down the last of his coffee and headed out of the kitchen.

"Aren't you going to tell us what that was all about?"

"No." and he went upstairs, without looking back.

The sound of birds woke Ron. He rubbed his eyes, full of sleep and rolled over. Next to him a warm body stirred, a soft yawn was muffled by the comforter. He had to blink twice and think of how she got there.

Of course, earlier that summer he had invited her to come over, intending on getting with Harry soon after. She had shown up, bushy hair going everywhere as usual, brown eyes hidden behind a book of complicated magic. Each day they talked and helped each other around the house. It became comfortable.

Then there was last night. That was magical. The moon had been full, and it was a Hunter's moon as well. He had been out looking at it in the garden when Hermione had come out, startling him. They each had blushed, gazed at the moon, and then…

_Well, I never thought it would lead to this_, he thought, smiling. He gently touched her hair, remembering the details- her smell, her touch, her strength and gentle nature. As he stroked her hair, she rolled over and look at him.

And screamed.

"Woah! Wait a minute!"

"What th-? Ron!" She paused, brown eyes wide. "Did w-we r-really?"

"Um…yeah. I thought- but if you didn't- you said-"

"I'm sorry….I remember…I just thought it was a dream….Oh my god…what will my mother say?"

"Nothing if you don't scream loud enough she hears you all the way home."

"Ron!" at least he had gotten a laugh out of her on that one.

"Besides, if you're not careful, MY mum will hear you." He whispered to her urgently.

She giggled like a little girl, and kissed his cheek. As she got up to get dressed, she smiled at him that special smile of love, and mischief. He smiled back and watched her for a moment before doing the same thing so they could go downstairs and get breakfast. After she was fully dressed she kissed him again, on the other cheek this time and disapparated with a faint pop. Ron smiled to himself and made his way downstairs. He didn't notice the odd looks on his sister's and the twin's faces. Then again, he didn't notice his own humming on the way down either.


	2. Chapter 2

Candlelight flickered in a dim and musty room. An old four poster bed stood alone with only its sleeping occupant to accompany it. Her hair, now dry, practically glittered around her equally pale face. Her eyes fluttered open, registering the strange surroundings. After a moment, she remembered what had happened.

The strange darkness and the thing that came out of it seemed like a bizaar nightmare. If it weren't for the continuing chills, she would have dismissed the whole thing. As she sat up to take in her surroundings, a panel in the wall opened and a man stepped into the shadows.

"I shouldn't even have you here, you understand." He said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The Dark Lord doesn't know about this room, and if you play your cards right, he won't realize you're not dead."

"The Dark Lord?" Now she was really confused. "You mean someone tried to murder me tonight?"

"Last night, dear, last night. They sucked much of the happiness from you, but I got there just in time. Shhh..." He perked up, the candlelight finally touching his face. His long black hair looked as if it hadn't been washed in days, his long face was pale, his eyes dark. Everything in the way he stood suggested power, and cunning. "Damnit, they're here. I didn't expect them this early." He looked around the room. "I'm sorry there's no room for a table in here, but I have dinner for you all the same. Just stay here, and please, for your sake, be silent." He quickly handed her a warm plate and vanished into the wall again, the panel sliding behind him.

She sat in confused silence, holding her plate of food. She could hear voices, muffled by the walls. Though she couldn't hear well, she could make out a few words. Wizards were mentioned. She knew what those were by the fantasy books she had read since she was a child, though knew they didn't exist. She could make out movement, some of it seemed very near her room. After figuring that she wouldn't help anyone if she starved to death, and since she couldn't get enough of the conversation outside to make use of it, she decided to eat.

It was delicious. Pheasant, asparagus and homemade mashed potatoes were arranged on the plate with a buttered roll. She thought that the man must be a chef of some kind, allthough if what the man said were true about how long she'd been out, her body was probably hungry enough to think Spagettios would be gormet too. Surprisingly enough, she found under the roll a chocolate bar and a note.

Eat this, it'll help with the chills.

The handwriting was tiny, almost like a working woman's should be. She could only assume it was his, though. How could this help with the chills, she thought.

While contemplating the unusual events of the past night a piercing scream echoed on the walls from the outer rooms. She froze there on the bed, listening intently, trying to figure out what that scream had been. It had definitely been a woman's voice, but no other clues reached her ears. She closed her eyes, focusing on any sound she could pick up at all. She could hear her heart, the creaking of the old walls and footsteps. In sudden terror she jumped up and hid under the bed, taking the plate and chocolate with her.

In the shadows she could see the panel open again and three pairs of feet entered the room.

As Ron entered the kitchen, his mother looked up and smiled at him. "Breakfast, dear? I have eggs here, toast and some marmalade."

"Toast would be fine, thanks mum." He took a bite of his toast and almost choked on it when a grey ball of fluff smacked him in the temple. "Pig!" The tiny owl had been so excited on delivering another letter successfully that it had forgotten to land in front of the recipient and had run right into Ron. Ginny, who had just entered the kitchen, giggled behind her hand. Ron rolled his eyes at her then took the overly large letter from the little owl and stuffed a piece of his toast into it's beak to hush the constant twittering it was doing. It was from Harry.

Sorry to make you wait so long, mate. I had a few things in the muggle world to take care of before we could deal with the real problem. I'm going to get over there as soon as I can. I've already made plans for the transportation, so you don't have to worry about it. I should be there this weekend. Make sure Hermione is there too so we can set out quickly.

Thanks for your help, you'll never know how much it means to me to have your support.

Harry

Ron grinned to himself thinking what Harry would say when he found out what had happened in his absence. Ginny, her long red hair falling over her shoulder, leaned over to read the letter over Ron's shoulder.

"Oh, he's coming? This weekend? Oh my, he could be here any time then. I better spruce up for him." and she ran back upstairs, almost colliding into Hermione on the way.

Hermione smiled at Mrs. Weasley as she took a piece of toast for herself and buttered it lightly. She poured herself a glass of orange juice and looked over at the letter Ron was still holding. "This weekend then? About time if you ask me. I was beginning to wonder if he was going to go ahead without us."

"Aw, Hermione, he wouldn't do that." Ron lied, but he knew from the look she gave him that it hadn't gotten past her. Sometimes she resembles Professor McGonagall a little too well, he thought.

"Well, I hope he remembers Bill and Fleur's wedding is this weekend too and gets here in time." She took a bite of her toast.

Mrs. Weasley watched the two of them at the table, trying to figure out what was different about them, when Fred and George entered the kitchen discussing their next invention.

"But if we do that, it might backfire on the user and that would make us lose money." George was saying.

"True, but if we're careful, we can make it flashier than anything anyone has seen yet, and that would rake in more galleons than you or I could count. We'd have to hire our own goblins to do our accounting."

"Not in a million years, bro. I wouldn't trust anyone with our money- not even goblins. Besides, I'd much rather know exactly what's going on with that without having to consult anyone else."

"Good point, good point. But what about it, you really think this will work?"

"Do you think what will work?" Asked Mrs. Weasley, her hands on her hips and the familiar mother-is-suspicious look on her face.

"We're working on some more complicated fireworks. The design we have is tricky-it would respond to vocal commands as to where to go, and would even create sounds similar to its animal type. The trick to it is getting it to really listen, see. You have to make sure it doesn't have too much in the way of brains or it might just go rogue on someone."

"Yeah, and that could be, well, unpleasant for some folk."

"Though it would make a great practical jo-"

"Oh no it wouldn't! And don't you two have better things to do than make joke stuff anymore? I thought the Ministry had put you on a contract for defensive products?"

"They did, mum, but that doesn't mean we can't still improve on our other merchandise. Besides, when Harry beats You-Know-Who, people will want to celebrate, right? What better way than a phoenix to honor the Order?" Fred turned to George just as Ginny was coming down the stairs again. A strong flowery scent filled the kitchen as she entered. She was wearing make-up, and it was very obvious. Mrs. Weasley clucked her tongue at her daughter and grabbed a washcloth from one of the drawers.

"Now, Ginny, you're much too young to be wearing so much of that. Let me take that off for you." And she went to wipe some of the make-up off her face.

"No, mum. Hey, stop that." like a kitten resisting the bathing from its mother, she struggled against Mrs. Weasley. "Harry is supposed to be over soon, and I want to look my best."

"And you think you smell the best too, I bet, don't you?" said Fred.

"Yeah, he wouldn't have to see you to know you're there. He'd smell you from a mile away. Whew!" laughed George while wafting his hand in front of his face.

Hermione looked over at Ginny, trying not to laugh, took her by the arm. "Mrs. Weasley, I'll make sure she's cleaned up properly. Ginny, come on, I have a better idea on how you could impress Harry." with that, the two girls made their way back up stairs.

As they got out of earshot, Fred and George burst out laughing. Ron chuckled to himself a bit. "I knew Ginny fancied Harry, but I didn't realize how much I guess." he finished off his toast, and looked at his mother across the table. "So, dad's working early to late again today, isn't he?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Yes, they are working him much too hard. But then again, after what happened, I guess I couldn't expect anything less."

Silence filled the kitchen. Each person was engrossed in their own thoughts and it was a moment or two before the normal post owls were even noticed. Ginny looked up when a particularly large tawny owl hooted impatiently. Mrs. Weasley took the letters and flipped through them as the owls took off once more.

"Ah, they're from the school. I was wondering if they would even open Hogwarts for this coming school year at all." She passed out the envelopes. They were all much thicker than normal. Inside was a permision slip.

"Mum, they want your signature allowing me to return to Hogwarts. You will let me go, won't you?" Ginny looked up at her mother hopefully.

"Well, I would rather you learn about magic and everything than not, but I'd like you close too. Oh dear, let me talk to your father first before we decide anything."

"Well, it says we have until August 31st to send this back. Do you think they would still use the train?" She asked Hermione.

"I'm not sure, but I suppose they would. It's never had any attacks on it before or anything." Hermione looked at her permission slip dubiously. "Personally, I'm not sure I'm going back. I'm not sure I can or that my parents would let me when I tell them they have to sign this to get me back in."

"Now why would them having to sign a slip keep you out of school dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. Hermione began to blush furiously.

"Well, I didn't, that is to say-I didn't tell them what happened at the end of the year. I was sure Hogwarts was going to close and send a letter to tell them, and I didn't want to worry them when I got back. I didn't expect them to require this."

Mrs. Weasley put her hands on her hips and gave a very motherly scowl to Hermione. "You didn't explain to them what happened at the end of the year to your parents? There is no reason for that. You just go and write them a letter explaining that and asking their forgiveness for not telling them in the first place this instant!" and her voice followed Hermione all the way up the stairs as she hurried to escape the storming fury. Fred and Geore laughed silently behind their hands.

"Serves her right, that Hermione." Fred was saying.

"Perhaps she should have listened to us when we were giving out hints on how to deal with her." George replied, still grinning.

"Then she would have known how to avoid that- One- don't give out any information you're not asked for-"

"Two-"

"Don't let her get into her stride." they chimed together. They both shook their heads and went outside, muttering quietly in private conversations.

"Wow, this worries me. Quite a bit really." Ron muttered under his breath.

"What worries you?" Ron jumped, dropping a large dollup of marmalade into his lap as he turned around. Ginny stood there, a knowing, evil grin that only a sister with forbidden information could manage on her face. Ron blushed like a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar and gulped. "That she'll find out about YOUR secret?"

Ron gulped again. "You don't know anything. You can't prove anything."

"Don't be so sure, big brother." and she walked out following the twins, laughing to herself.

She nearly fell backwards when she ran into what felt like a furry brick wall. She looked up to see the familiar large bushy haired form of Hagrid. He looked down at her and smiled, though his eyes didn't really smile with him this time. "Oh, 'ello Ginny. Sorry 'bout that, didn' see ya down there."

"That's ok, Hagrid." She stepped back a few paces to get a good look at him. His eyes had bags under them like her father had been getting lately, and he seemed thinner, but maybe it was more muscle now. It was hard to tell with the overly large moleskin coat he was wearing. "What's going on?"

"Nothing much, just escortin' 'arry here. Feels just like the old days, don' it, 'arry?" and he gave a big sniff as a large tear dropped from his eye and ran down to disappear into his beard. Harry looked around from behind him, slightly taller than what Ginny remembered, skinnier too. She smiled at him, almost shyly and invited him inside. Hagrid ducked so he could follow them into the kitchen.

Just as they entered, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione were coming back down the stairs. When they caught sight of Harry, both dashed quickly to him, hugging him tightly in turn. Mrs. Weasley immediately began to voice her worries that the Dursleys weren't feeding him enough and started bustling about making some fresh food for Harry. Hermione and Ron silently looked at him, both smiling. The entire time, Harry didn't say a word.

After the third time Mrs. Weasley bumped into Hagrid while cooking, she offered him a mug of coffee and ushered him outside. When he was in the garden she turned to the kids. "Could you guys go outside and keep Hagrid company. I feel bad for having to have him out there instead of in here, but it's just too small and crowded for someone his size. Thanks dears." and she went back to cooking.

Ron, Hermione and Harry shrugged and went outside after Hagrid. It was chilly still, as it never did quite warm up like it was supposed to for the summer. They knew it was because of the dementors. Hermione tried many times to start up conversations, each time though it didn't work. They were all too into their own thoughts.

After another fifteen minutes, Mrs. Weasley came out levitating two large steaming pots in front of her. "Ron, would you get some bowls and cups and some silverware, please? Hermione, if you could help him?" They nodded and went inside. Harry started to get up to help them as well when Mrs. Weasley stopped him. "That's ok, dear. You've had a long journey. Sit, relax."

It took a little bit longer for them to get back with the dishes than Harry thought was normal. They both seemed to be in better spirits though. They all sat at the table and ate, the warmth from the food and what turned out to be hot chocolate, permeating them so that the chill didn't seem so bad and the clouds didn't seem so dark. Conversation bloomed. Ron started talking about Quidditch, Harry joined in. Ginny sat back and listened to them. Hagrid talked with Mrs. Weasley about what the Ministry is doing about the dementors and Death Eaters. Hermione, was the first to notice the strange visitor. 


End file.
